


Blue Eyes

by Locastil



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-14
Updated: 2013-06-14
Packaged: 2017-12-14 23:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/842530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Locastil/pseuds/Locastil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I found a request of starblackwood (on their Tumblr) asking, "You know what I want? I want a peterstiles fic where they have a huge fight and split up and they’re separated for a few weeks, both stewing in their anger and neither of them want to be the first to apologize, making everybody around them miserable, pack meetings tense, messages being delivered through a third person. And, just when both of them are at their miserable-est (that a word?) one of them goes to the other and they talk it through and start to fix what they fucked up.</p>
<p>And when they agree to get back together, Peter goes up to Stiles and hold him, presses Stiles’ body tightly against his, Peter’s face resting against Stiles’ neck, nuzzling it. And when Stiles holds him back, Peter whispers “Please come home.”</p>
<p>AND IT ENDS ON A BEAUTIFUL FLUFFY HAPPY NOTE!!!!!</p>
<p>I JUST REALLY NEED MORE FLUFFY PETERSTILES IN MY LIFE!!!!!." </p>
<p>So, here it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starblackwood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starblackwood/gifts).



> I do not own Teen Wolf, Peter Hale, Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, or any other Teen Wolf characters.

Stiles had not seen his mate in three weeks. In fact, he did not care if he did not see his mate for /another/ three weeks. (He totally ignored the pitter-patter of his heart that told him he was lying as he thought this.) The truth was, Stiles was pissed off. He was pissed of, and hurt, and he didn’t care if he ever saw that asshole again. (UGH SHUT UP HEART.) 

Stiles had been staying with his father during this spat between he and his mate. When he had showed up on the sheriff’s door with a carryon bag slung over his shoulder, the sheriff merely let his son through the door. He had learned over the years that it was better to just not ask. If Stiles were seriously in trouble, he would come to the sheriff if he needed him. Stiles could not express how grateful he was that at least /one/ person in his life was not pressing the issue of this tiff between he and his lover. 

Scott told him he was being stupid. Scott had found himself quickly thrown out of the house, with a circle of mountain ash being laid so that no werewolves could come in to bug Stiles. The truth was….yes. Stiles was being stupid. He and Peter could probably talk things out if Stiles would give him the chance. But Stiles was not that simple of a person. When he was angry, he needed time to be angry. He needed time to stew in his anger. He needed time to through his pity party, and most importantly, he needed time to get over it. And he would. He knew he would. He and Peter would just have to suffer from Blue-Balls Syndrome until that time. 

The pack had been fighting against a gang of rogue hunters. Even the Argents had come to the Hale’s pack aid, especially since the two were in a truce of sorts that had really been working out not just for the two families, but also for Beacon Hills. These hunters were quick, efficient, and ruthless. The only thing they cared about was exterminating “abominations” from the planet. They were a little too “Church of the Sun” for Stiles. This, of course, would be what got Stiles into trouble. Of course, there was a dramatic show down. Of course, Stiles ran his mouth off at the leader of the hunter gang. Of course, Peter used his special werewolf mate powers to force Stiles to leave before the fighting starte-wait, what? 

Yes. So Stiles had learned, almost in the middle of a battle, that werewolves, specifically the dominant mate of the pair, could in fact use freaky powers to order their mate to do things. Peter’s eyes had turned bright blue as he glared at Stiles, telling his mate to shut up, get into his Jeep, and to drive back to their apartment until Peter returned. Stiles’ eyes widened as his mouth shut tight, his feet drug him to his Jeep, he slung the door open, slammed it, and drove off back to the apartment they shared. 

Stiles was too shocked to be furious at that moment. He sat on the couch in their living room, staring at his hands. How long had Peter been hiding that from him? Could Peter do that at anytime? Would he? By the time Peter returned to the apartment, covered in blood that was not his own (Ok, Stiles at least checked over his mate, regardless of how upset he was. Besides, he wanted to kill Peter himself, preferably by choking him.), Stiles already had his bags packed. Peter did not have to ask Stiles to know what was going on. The two stood for a moment, merely staring at each other before Stiles gave him a quick nod, heading out of the door to his dad’s. 

Needless to say, the past three weeks had been tense for the pack. Stiles refused to talk to Peter, nonetheless look at him, and Peter respected Stiles’ boundaries. Messages were passed between the two by Isaac or Erica, especially since Scott refused to be around Peter for long periods of time and Derek had outright stated he would not be the messenger boy for the two idiots. Pack meetings felt stiff, unfriendly. Everyone tip toed around the two, careful on what they said, who they mentioned. The whole situation was pretty much miserable, especially since Stiles and Peter were the only mated pair of the group, the pair that was supposed to hold the group together. Yes, Boyd and Erica were mates. Yes, Scott and Allison were mates, but neither had gone fully through the mating process. Only Stiles and Peter had. So when the two fought, it was like the precious strings that held the pack together were being torn and frayed. 

Of course Stiles and Peter were the most miserable. Stiles was sure it was even worse for Peter, considering he was the werewolf of the pair, but it was still pretty horrible for him. Imagine being in a huge fight with someone and feeling not only your wounds, but the other guy’s as well. That was Stiles’ every day constant. He dreamed every night about his mate. Touching him. Kissing him. Being held by him. He also dreamed about a Peter who used blue eyes to command Stiles to kill his family, friends, anyone who generally got in the way of their mating. He dreamed about a Peter who used blue eyes to warp him into a creature who was no longer considered “Stiles.” He dreamed of a Peter who used blue eyes to get Stiles to help him kill Derek. He dreamed of a Peter who now, once again, had red eyes. 

Derek was the one to finally force them to make up. He locked the two in the basement of the Hale house; making it explicit they could not leave until the two had made up. For the first few seconds, there was a lot of awkward standing and staring at the floors, the walls, anything but each other. Finally, Peter sighed. 

“Stiles. I am sorry. I….should not have sprung that on you when I did,” Peter said. 

“Damn right you should not have,” Stiles began, but was interrupted by his mate.

Peter held up his hand, “Let me finish. I am sorry that I kept that from you. There are a lot of things that we have not fully discussed about the pros and cons of being mated, and that is a discussion that we will definitely be having later. I am sorry that we have not already had that discussion. However, I am not sorry that I used it on you. I am not sorry that my number one priority is your safety. I am not sorry that you did not get hurt that night. Those hunters….would have killed you without a care of your humanity. I refused to let you be in the middle of that. So if you are angry with me about that, fine. But at least you are alive and well enough to be angry with me.” 

Stiles stared at his mate, mouth stuck in an open position. Now that…that just wasn’t fair. How was Stiles supposed to stay mad at him when he said things like that? Stiles sighed. The jig was up. His pity party was over. He nodded, swallowing back the tears that threatened to spill at Peter’s words. 

“Alright……I….I am sorry that I got so angry. I know you were just looking out for my well-being. I just…Peter, you can’t keep things from me. That’s not how relationships work. If we are to have a healthy relationship, then we have to be honest with each other about everything. Everything. All your freaky werewolf stuff. And if you ever use that werewolf power on me again, at least without some sort of warning, I swear I will neuter you,” Stiles said, giving Peter one of his half smiles. 

Peter couldn’t help but to nearly tackle his mate, his arms wrapping around Stiles’ waist, squeezing them tightly together. Stiles couldn’t help the tears the spilled from his eyes as he hugged the werewolf just as tightly back. Peter nuzzled his face into the side of Stiles’ neck, taking a deep breath of his mate’s scent. 

“Please come home,” Peter whimpered into Stiles’ neck. 

Stiles laughed and gave a light kiss to his mate’s neck, “How could I say no to that?”


End file.
